


Time Forgets

by eyelikeamagpie



Series: Bittersweet Symphony [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drabble, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Music, Kid Fic, Kinda, Pre-Canon, Songfic, Weechesters, Wordcount: 100-500, Yiruma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2012-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-19 15:07:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyelikeamagpie/pseuds/eyelikeamagpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weechesters fic.</p><p>Sam wants to know about his mother. Dean didn't realise how much he'd forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time Forgets

**Author's Note:**

> This all began with a post on Tumblr - which introduced me to the wonderful music of Yiruma - with a mini ficlet about Castiel attached. I fell in love with the music, and this will probably become a series based on some of the songs with the same titles. I really recommend listening to them while you read; they're beautiful. I'm not normally into that sort of genre, but Yiruma is an exception.
> 
> So yeah.
> 
> TL:DR - Based on Time Forgets by Yiruma.
> 
> Enjoy~
> 
> ((I have re-read this - I wrote it at 3am - and deemed it awful. It will be rewritten at a later date, but I'd like to assure you that not all of my writing is this bad.))

It had taken some time for five year old Sam Winchester to finally work up the courage. He loved his brother, even young as he was, idolised him. But he could tell that there was a chance his question would not go down well, and he hated upsetting Dean. Even if the older boy didn’t show it when he did.

But after several long minutes of deliberation, he decided to ask.

Dean was crouched on the motel sofa, one eye on the TV, the other – as always – on the door. He looked up as Sam approached him, shot the younger boy a smile.

“Hey Sammy.”

The five year old smiled in response, moving to sit beside his brother. It was another few seconds before he finally voiced the question, but in the end, he did. His eyes turned to Dean’s face, watching, and his voice was quiet as he asked what their mother had been like.

The older Winchester fell silent for a few long moments, and Sam began to worry that he’d upset the boy. At length, however, he turned to him.

He told him about the songs she’d hummed when she was happy, and the way she’d always been there, no matter what. He told him about tomato and rice soup when he was ill, and the time they’d all gone to the beach together.

He tried to tell him about the scent of her favourite perfume; but the memories seemed fuzzier than he remembered. Unclear. He found that he couldn’t quite recall the way she’d smiled outside of photographs, or the exact tone of her voice. He was nine now, after all. It had been nearly five years since he’d seen her.

That hurt more than it should have.

But even when he ran out of memories, Sam was still there, watching him avidly, and he couldn’t let his baby brother down.

So he lied.

He told his brother that he could still remember the exact colour of her eyes, because they were unforgettable. So was the feel of her hair, and the sound of her laugh; the words she’d say to chase away nightmares, and her bedtime stories.

When he finally fell silent, the younger boy was watching him in awe, and he decided that lying wasn’t so bad. After all, Sam didn’t know any better. He didn’t have any memories at all.

And lies were better than nothing.


End file.
